


oh, would you be so kind

by Meridas



Series: kiss me once, then kiss me twice [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, February Kiss Prompts, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Mollymauk '11 Charisma' Tealeaf everyone, Mutual Pining, Other, Pining, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridas/pseuds/Meridas
Summary: He’s a loud person, and he knows it, but he can love Caleb quietly until he’s ready, if he ever is.prompt fill for day 2: "first kiss"





	oh, would you be so kind

“Mollymauk,” he hears, somewhere close by and fuzzy like a sunbeam. He turns toward it, not opening his eyes just yet. He’s _so comfortable_. He’s found the perfect spot curled up in the softest chair in Caleb’s bookshop, and he’d just closed his eyes for a moment, surrounded by the soft sounds and warm atmosphere…

_Oh_. Molly blinks his eyes open with great effort. Still muzzy with his unintentional nap, he rubs one hand clumsily over his face. Caleb is standing in front of him, fond amusement on his face.

“How was your nap?” Caleb asks. He reaches up and scratches Frumpkin’s head where the cat is scarfed around his shoulders. Frumpkin purrs mightily.

Molly stretches luxuriously, taking his time. “Mm, you really do have the most comfortable chairs in here, Caleb. You can’t blame someone for falling asleep.” He glances out the window, and his heart sinks. It’s quite dark outside, the dull orange glow of a street lamp shining through. “Oh. Caleb, I said I would help you close up tonight, you should have woken me up.”

Caleb shrugs, an odd little smile playing on his face. “You looked… comfortable.” He looks away, and Molly could swear there’s a little blush creeping up his face. “I did not want to disturb you.”

He looks so good, Molly thinks helplessly, a little flushed and a little tired but so comfortable here in his element, in the bookshop he built from the ground up. Molly loves seeing Caleb here, with his sleeves rolled up and his protective layers set aside. Sometimes Caleb even puts his hair up during work hours, which does a number on Molly’s poor smitten heart.

“I’m ready to lock up,” Caleb says, breaking Molly’s reverie. He jingles the shop keys in his hand, and Frumpkin’s head swivels to them. Molly stifles a laugh as Caleb automatically moves the keys away from his familiar. “Do you still want to grab dinner?”

Molly stretches out again, feeling the lassitude of his nap still clinging to his bones. He looks at Caleb’s face, evaluating how exhausted he is by the day. Sometimes Caleb is ready to bounce back immediately from work. Other days, interacting with customers is horrifically draining on him. Tonight seems somewhere in the middle; Caleb’s eyes are tired, but he still has a little smile ready for Molly, and his shoulders aren’t slumped any more than usual.

“What if we get takeout?” Molly offers. “We can go back to mine and watch something. Your pick.”

Caleb raises his eyebrows. “Really? And you won’t complain once we get fifteen minutes in? Because there is a documentary I want to watch.”

_I just want to watch you enjoy something_ , Molly doesn’t say. There's a lot he doesn't say to Caleb. There’s so much that he bites off at the tip of his tongue, so much that he worries would tip their precious friendship over and ruin everything. He needs to wait, even if he waits forever. He’s not going to rush Caleb into anything.

“I promise not to complain,” he says, and even draws his finger in a cross over his heart. Another yawn forces its way out of him. “I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep,” he admits, but it gets a little laugh.

“I can live with that,” Caleb agrees, and Molly forces himself not to get his hopes up again at the soft fondness in Caleb’s tone.

Molly teases Frumpkin with his tail as Caleb locks up the store, flicking it in the cat’s periphery but never letting him get ahold of it. Frumpkin is a fey cat, as Caleb likes to remind them all, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to bite the shiny piercings off of Molly’s tail any time he catches it. Caleb lets their antics go on until Frumpkin swipes for Molly’s tail and ends up smacking Caleb in the ear.

“Alright, go wait at home,” he says, and snaps his fingers. Frumpkin disappears with a tiny _poof_.

Molly grins unrepentantly and offers Caleb his elbow. “Shall we?”

It’s a familiar routine for them, after all the years they’ve been friends. Sometimes the others will join them, and Molly loves those big family dinners that happen when the Mighty Nein all get together. He loves them each in their own right, and he’d feel incomplete without any one of them now. But he’s always cherished these small moments alone with Caleb. It was hard to get him out of his shell, back when they first met, back when Molly’s ridiculous crush was based on physical attraction and not much else. It’s gotten even worse ever since, as he fell further in love with Caleb as a person, as they both went through hard times and amazing successes alongside their friends, their little family. The past two years, since Caleb opened his bookshop, have been the hardest for Molly’s poor heart. Sometimes he thinks it’s impossible that Caleb can’t see the hearts in his eyes, and is only letting him down as gently as he can.

Yasha thinks he’s being ridiculous. Beau just makes disgusted noises at him when the two of them get drunk enough to talk about their love lives. Jester thinks Caleb loves him back, but Jester thinks every crush is mutual and everyone should confess their feelings on Valentine’s Day with roses.

As they collect their food from their favorite deli and make for Molly’s apartment, he tells himself for the thousandth time that he can wait. He doesn’t take Caleb’s hand while he charms the older woman behind the counter, he doesn’t put his arm around him while they walk back home. He doesn’t tug Caleb into dancing with him when they pass a street performer, and instead takes the hands of a little girl who is giving it her all in the middle of the sidewalk. He doesn’t even kiss Caleb’s cheek when they resume their walk home, just takes his half of their takeout bags back and grins when Caleb fixes his mussed coat collar.

He’s a loud person, and he knows it, but he can love Caleb quietly until he’s ready, if he ever is. He can start up a documentary about discoveries of the ancient Sylvan language and put a fork in Caleb’s hand so he’ll eat his food while they watch. He can curl up on the couch next to him and ignore the documentary in favor of sneaking glances at Caleb’s rapt attention and interested mutterings until their food is all gone.

Pleasantly full and lulled by the soft voice of the narrator, cozy under his favorite blanket, Molly gives up the pretense of watching the documentary and lays his head on the back of the couch, looking up at Caleb. He can feel his eyelids getting heavy. Surely a short nap can’t hurt.

When Molly opens his eyes again, the room is quiet. There’s something lumpier than his couch underneath his cheek, and his hair is being pet in slow, soothing motions. Caleb’s familiar smell fills his nose, like books and cedar and coffee. A quiet purr builds in his throat, and he’s too sleepy and content to bother stopping it. He doesn’t want to move at all.

The hand in his hair pauses, and he leans further into it. He hears Caleb’s soft laugh above him, just that little huff of amusement, and the hand resumes.

“Mollymauk,” he hears quietly above him, just like at the shop before. It’s his favorite way to wake up. He wishes he could do this every day.

Reluctantly, Molly pries himself up from Caleb’s shoulder and looks at him. Caleb makes no move to lean away from him like Molly expects, and they’re very close on the couch. “Sorry,” Molly mutters. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“You made no promises,” Caleb reminds him, and in the semi-darkness of the room he looks so happy, and fond, and everything soft that makes Molly ache to his fingertips to hold him. Caleb’s hand smooths his hair back one more time, but then he slides it down and cups Molly’s cheek instead of moving away. “Molly,” he says, quiet and steady, “would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Molly stares at him. “Am I still dreaming?” he blurts out, and his voice even _squeaks_ and oh gods please let him be asleep because this is the least smooth he’s ever been.

Caleb huffs out another little laugh. He’s blushing again, even harder than he was at the bookstore earlier. His gaze falls away from Molly’s, but his little smile is still there. It looks—he looks hopeful. He looks like how Molly feels when he looks at Caleb and thinks someday he’ll ask him out on a real date. His hand is very warm on the side of Molly’s face.

Oh gods, Molly hasn’t answered. Caleb Widogast is asking if he can kiss him, and like an idiot Molly is just staring at him and hasn’t answered.

“Yes,” he rushes, “Caleb—yes, _please_.”

He sits upright, almost slips right off the couch, but Caleb’s hands grab his shoulders and Molly rights himself, blushing furiously. He looks at Caleb, eyes wide. He should say something. He’s sure there’s something clever or seductive or even just plain _sweet_ that he should manage to say, but words fail him entirely at the sight of Caleb’s smile.

“Just—” Caleb’s hands come up to cup his face, and gods above he looks just as nervous as Molly feels. But he sweeps his thumb over Molly’s cheek and Molly melts into his touch, and then Caleb leans forward and presses their lips firmly together.

It’s a chaste kiss, and a little awkward, and _perfect_. Molly can’t stop smiling, but he kisses back and it’s better than he could have hoped because it's _real_. He’s shaking a little, hyper-aware of every awkward sound as their mouths part and come back together, dizzy with the soft and purposeful way Caleb kisses him. He’s swept up in Caleb’s familiar smell and the feeling of his beard brushing his skin, the warmth of his chapped lips as they part against Molly’s.

They break apart, just a breath between them, and Molly finds he’s smiling too hard to manage anything else. He laughs—can’t do anything else with the joy bubbling up in him, the giddiness of everything that he feels. Caleb’s deep blue eyes are shining back at him, and he’s smiling back at Molly with a look that’s both familiar and utterly new.

“I’ve wanted to do that for some time,” Caleb admits. His thumb brushes across Molly’s cheek, following the curve of his feather tattoo.

“I wanted to ask you out,” Molly says, “I wanted— _this_ , and I still want—Caleb—”

Caleb kisses him again, just a soft, brief kiss that doesn’t help Molly’s cognitive process _at all_. “Yes,” he says, and it takes Molly a moment to unscramble what he might be saying.

He brightens, if possible, even more. “Yes?” he repeats hopefully. “Yes, you want to—you’d want to date me? You’d want to… be my boyfriend, maybe?”

“I very much would,” Caleb says, and he has that same little half-laugh that Molly does, like neither of them can really believe that it’s happening. Molly feels light and wonderful inside, and his chest aches with helpless joy and hope.

He doesn’t force it away this time. Instead he leans in, and kisses Caleb again.

**Author's Note:**

> title of this fic comes from Would You Be So Kind by dodie! Very much worth a listen.


End file.
